Partners in Crime
by Scandinesbian
Summary: A BatIM realated AU/Story Co-Written by EpicZStories on Wattpad (she also designed the cover art). Benji the ink demon and Annie the fox are two individuals on the lesser end of the law. They meet under an odd circumstance and can't seem to find a way to part. Rated for language and questionable content. OCxOC Ship.


Chapter One:

There was a small, almost poverty stricken hold with a population of just over 300; a mixture of wolves, foxes and coyotes. Harmony was kept moderate between the groups thanks to a well balanced economy of trade. The wolves primarily operated trade between outside and inside sources through venders and wearhouses, the foxes ran markets and inns and coyotes were livestock ranchers.

But as a rule, whereas there is a society of honest living, there must be a lower society for the less honest. Underneith the town, there was a smaller hold established in tunnels accessed by well hidden secret doors found in different points in the outskirts of the main town. This hold acted as a base of opperations for a band of thieves lead by a dire wolf known only as 'Twan'.

Dire wolves tended to be larger in stature and more aggressive than regular wolves and possessed spectral abilities in select elements; which gave Twan a sense of superiority over his cohorts. He told the other thieves where and when to hit for goods to illegally trade and refrained from splitting the spoils fairly, much unlike his predecessors; and whomever happened to question his methods disappeared and were swiftly replaced in time.

Twan was tall with a muscular build, covered in unruly grey and white fur. His burgandy eyes peirced the very soul; something that was rumored to be a special ability of the dire wolf breed.  
Across the large den, he watched three of his fellow thieves sitting at a small, round table and conversing over a drink or two. One of them in particular had a knack for drawing his attention. Garnet Anne was a good thief. She was strong, fleet and crafty. She always got her jobs done. No matter the difficulty or possibility of imprisonment, injury or even death; Anne did as she was told and did it quick.

The vixen's athletic build, long and voluminous tail, monochromatic fur, short hair cut, brown eyes and medium bust most often sent his mind to a more primal state when he looked at her. He blamed his fixation on the form of the fem fox.

"Anne!" He called her over.

Her ear switched backward at the bark of her employers beckon. She gazed sideways over her shoulder, meeting his gaze before facing the two coyote friends she was speaking with. She heaved a heavy sigh before finishing her drink and bidding the two males a farewell before going to see what the dire wolf required of her this time around.

"Yes, Twan?" She replied, standing before him. "I see you forgot to change out of your marshall's uniform, you crooked bastard."

He gazed down at his outfit. He indeed had forgotten to trade up his lawman attire; not that it mattered because his secret was known to his unlawful cohorts and as long as they kept it a secret, there was no consequence.

"That's what I adore about you Anne." He laughed. "Your tongue is sharper than a knife. That's why you're the best at what you do."

"Hardly the best." She protested. "There are several here who have much more talent at the art in one finger than I could hope to fit in my entire body."

"Now, now, Anne. Don't be modest." Twan snickered, over admiring her green, low cut top again.

Anne fastened the open buttons on the top of her shirt with a scoff. "Can we get to it, please?"

"Yes, yes. Of course." Twan said, opening a large map of the outside area of their town. "I'm sure you're aware of the old mansion that's located in this area?" He drew a circle on a landmass southwest of their home.

"You mean the old mansion that's been abandoned for years? What about it?"

"Well, my sweet-"

"Don't call me that..."

"-I've aquired intell that there is a satchel of heirlooms located in a chest in the cellar of the place." Twan told her.

Anne huffed through her nose.

"And by 'aquired intell' you really mean 'heard a rumor amongst the marshalls today'?"

Twan chuckled. "You are two smart, my dear."

"You want me to check it out, I'd assume?" Anne said, leaning away from an unwanted kiss attempt.

Twan cleared his throat, shaking off the rejection.

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Anything to get me out of here." Anne mumbled.

"Did I hear something?" The dire wolf's tone took a more aggressive edge.

Anne repeated a ruse.

"Anything, as long as the skies are clear." With that, she snatched up the map and started for her bedroom to pack a bag.

Many tales had been told about that old mansion, as far as Anne could remember. She like many of the children in the local area had been told stories of old varying from the place being haunted, to it being built and lived in for generations by a family of fabled Ink Demons until they just disappeared; presumably to return to whichever pit of tartarus they'd came from. Anne had grown into an adult now, working for her own living and supporting herself on her own merit. She no longer believed that Ink Demons really existed.

She packed a knapsack with a kanteen on water, a pistol and the appropriate ammunition, the map, a spare bag, crackers and a flashlight; she didn't know if she was going to return before dark and felt it was best to be safe. She fastened the knapsack closed and heaved it over her back and began heading for the first checkpoint of her journey; the end of the tunnel and nearest exit to the outside.

She pulled a small chain built into the stone door and listened for the now opened latch and slowly pushed the door opened. Avoiding detection, she slipped out of the doorway and let it latch closed again, making a seemingly normal stone-cut totem of an ancient canine. The early morning was always pleasant when Anne had been couped up underneith the streets for a day or two. Taking in the crisp, frosty air as she started for her destination.  
Anne chose to cut her trip by a few hours by taking a hike up one of the southeast hills; despite the risks of landslides, it felt nice to stretch her legs and be able to turn around on the stable ground and see her small, humble home. In the fall season, she always thought it looked like an oil painting.

With her legs burning slightly, she finally reached the top of the hill and gazed down at the tattered mansion below, hidden in a crescent of trees that were nearly stripped bare from fallen leaves. She carefully began her decent down the other side of the hill, treading as lightly as possible, hoping and sliding. Leaves soon began to crunch under her feet, giving her a child-like joy as she reached the bottom of the hill and closed in on the enlarging establishment before her.

The walls and roof were completly delapidated and taking on a grey tinge; whatever color the exterior was colored in the past, it was unidentifiable now. None of the windows around the ground of top floors were the same in shape; some were midly cracked, some were sevearly cracked to the point of the glass taking the spiderweb effect look and others were completly smashed out all together. Anne even could have sworn some of the windows looked like they'd been taken right out of the panels.

The first step of the porch made a loud and obnoxious groan under her weight, but Anne was content that she didn't fall through the wood like she assumed would happen. Treading lightly, she approached the front door and gently pushed it open. The door opened fully, greeting her with a loud squeal before thudding against the wall behind stepped inside, brushing dust and cobwebs from the newly disturbed environment from her face. The place smelled of the aformentioned dust and the destinct smell of mold, which was exactly what Anne expected of it; however, she couldn't help but imagine what the place must have looked like when it was thriving, no matter who or what resided within its walls. It was spacious, and homey. Her mind wandered to thinking she wouldn't have minded living in a place like this when she was in her teens, dreaming of a handsome and determined significant other and many children to raise in such a big house.

Anne shook her head, she was forgetting what she had orginally come for. Heirlooms. Things of value that could be taken to a buyer in the markets and sold for money that she more than likely would be lucky to see a quarter of. Treading lightly and listening to the squeaks and groans of the floor boards, she explored the ground floor first. Whoever had lived there last really must have disappeared, because it seemed to her like nothing was taken with them. The den and kitchen were still furnished, paintings hung on the walls but were too dusty to admire fully, and coats were still hung up in the den closet; Anne assumed more clothes would still be housed in the bedroom closets, waiting for her inspection. The old place just might have been a better business opprotunity than she thought.

"Might as well see what else I can find of value before finding and attempting the cellar..." She spoke to herself, reaching in to her knapsack and taking out thespare.  
Doing what theives did, Anne went from room to room and inspected every inch of every cabinet and hidden space in every room. She snatched up silverware, ceramic items, some old firearms that she thought could be worth something to a collector, three gold plated pocket watches, five womens jackets that felt like silk and two mens jackets that felt like some kind of felt. She folded the clothing items tightly to make sure she could still fit that satchel she was after, not knowing how big or small it was and Anne was searching for the cellar door. If she were a cellar door, where would she be?  
Outside around the left or right corner? Right corner.

As Anne trotted to the cellar door and brushed leaves out of the way, to her dismay, she found that the door was chained closed. She tugged at the chain and padlock a few times and something didn't make sense to her. This chain and padlock had no rust on either one whatsoever and the style of padlock didn't match the style that would have been used when the mansion was abandoned. Not by a good few years atleast. It didn't make sense. This chain and padlock was new. She took a few steps back and her ears stood up erect. She thought she'd heard something from underneith her.

Anne was curious now. She wanted to know, and she couldn't leave without that satchel Twan wanted anyways. The chain and padlock were new, but the cellar door wasn't. She supposed whoever locked it up didn't think of that. With a number of strong stomps, Anne wore the rotten wood down and caused it to give way and fall, making herself a new door. Splash. Something else wasn't right. Anne picked up a small pebble and dropped it down the cellar, watching it disappear into the dark where the ladder ended and shortly after she heard it again. Sploosh.

It didn't make sense because it had been a dry fall, and naturally the snow hadn't had a chance to melt yet, so why was the cellar flooded? Water pipe burst? Anne reached into her supply knapsack and received her flashlight, clicking it on and shining it down into the cellar that didn't seem so deep anymore. There was some sort of liquid covering the floor, but it wasn't water. It was black and shimmered in the light. Hoping that the old ladder would hold her, Anne placed one foot down on to the first step and slowly lowered the other one. Repeating the motion carefully and only breaking one step under a foot.

Anne reached the bottom of the cellar and allowed her boots to make contact with the shimmering, black substance. She took a wiff of the air, it wasn't oil. "What on earth?" escaped from her breath as she reached down and dipped two fingers into the substance and feeling it with her fingers and thumb. Ink?

She hunted around the cabinets for more light sources, discovering the cellar must have doubled as a woodshop and storage unit; finding woodworking tools of all kinds from sand paper to chissels. Finally, she found what she was looking for. An oil lamp. If it would even work was a long shot, but anything to see more clearly what was happening in this dark abyss. Anne turned the switch and after a few failed sparks, one actually caught and illuminated the dark cellar in an orange glow. The new illumination revealed the back end of the cellar had been ransacked and there was a red substance on the walls that Anne could only dismiss as blood. Who or what did it once belong to?

Her heart sank into her chest as she looked at a shimmering black mass in the center of the floor. It was a large mass that was almost as tall in height as she was, almost reaching her chest. At first she thought it was a giant ball or bubble of some kind, but then as she stepped closer, moving the ink with her steps, she noticed that it was breathing. She froze, her ears went backwards in anxiety. She didn't want to, but she did...

"H-Hello?"

The mass shifted and unfolded from the fetal position, growing well over her head on all fours and producing a gurgling noise from its razor teeth that were visible under the ink dripping off it's face, hiding the other features from the pale face. Anne couldn't supress her panic anymore. She emitted a sharp screech before bolting back for the ladder and mounting it rapidly. She was at the top, in the light again when she heard something that she wasn't sure was real.

"W-Wait." A faint male voice wavered from the cellar. "D-Don't go. I w-won't hurt you."

Anne forced herself to tread back down the ladder and look down at the creature behind her. To her mystery, the ink seemed to be receding back to him while he shrank down to a more natural size and looked up at her with a full face. A normal mouth twisted into a look of pain and large, blue eyes that expressed that he needed her help. "I p-promise." He continued, before falling to his side. "Please... Help me..."

Anne jumped back down to the floor and dashed to the side of the unknown creature, quickly noticing that mixed in with the black ink that seemed to be drying into him, there was red. Blood. He was bleeding.

"It's okay." Annie said. "I'll help you. Just let me-" She froze in her words as her eyes wandered down his body, looking for more blood. There was only one gash in his gut. Annie knew that this creature was a male, judging by what she saw. A very lucky male. "I-I-I I'll go get some towels." She stuttered, not taking her eyes off it. She wasn't a naive vixen, she had seen one before; just not quite one like that. She bolted back up the ladder, telling him to stay awake.

Dashing back up two sets of ricketty stairs, Anne grabbed all the clean towels she'd found in the mansions remnants of a bathroom and shook the dost off them and returning to the creature in need.

"I'm back." She said, using the larger towel to cover his shame (or lack there of) for him. As she gently turned him on to his back, he let out a weak groan and seemed to drift off. "Stay with me, okay. What's your name?" She spoke, pressing the wound.

He let out another groan before replying weakly.  
"M-My name is B-Benji..."

"Benji." She repeated with a soft voice. "Hello. My name is Annie." She wasn't sure of two things at this point. She wasn't sure why she chose to introduce herself using the nickname her mother gave her, and she wasn't sure how she made the leap from thief to strange creature paramedic.

He looked up at her with those expressive, blue eyes. "Annie..." He repeated weakly.

Anne looked back down at him and smiled warmly as she pressed down on the wound, stopping the bleeding. "Just try to relax, Benji..."

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply with Anne leading him, she took that moment to look at his features, trying to figure out what he was by herself (or atleast that's what she told herself). She wasn't really sure if he had skin, fur, or both. He had a slight devilish appearance, complimented by his arrow tail. His body was muscular and festooned with scars of all kinds. He had clearly been through a lot and Anne wondered who hurt him and locked him down in this cellar to bleed out and die? What was the form he had taken when she first saw him? Was it even real? Was he a fabled Ink Demon?

He opened his eyes just as she was tossing the towel that was now red and grey with inky blood and reaching for her handy bag and taking her kanteen, pouring water onto a clean cloth.

"Easy..." She spoke to him as she dabbed the wet cloth onto his wound and to her shock and horror, he tensed up and yelped in pain. "What?! What is it?!" She cried.

"It's only water..."

"Pure water?" He asked.

"Y-Yes..." She replied. "I drink it..."

"Pure water is very painful for me..." He groaned.

Anne gasped. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know... I-I don't even know...what you are..." She continued, switching for a dry cloth and wiping the now clean wound with it.

She requested Benji to hold the cloth tight to his wound and he obliged her.

"I'm...an Ink Demon..." He answered her as she hunted around in the back cabinets and was answered with silence. "...Are you afraid?"

"... No." She finally replied, a half truth. She finally found what she was hoping to find. A first aid kit, like every shop should have. "The one time I forget my

own." She said, hoping for a change of subject while returning to him. "So... What happened to you?" She finally asked, unwrapping a suture needle.

Benji stopped and fell silent, as if he were shocked or suprised at something.

"I...I don't remember very much of it..."

"Well what do you remember?" Anne rephrased, threading the needle.

"...Cain." He exhaled before wincing in pain at the in-and-out feel of the needle and thread. "...Thank you for helping me, and I'm sorry I scared you."

Anne chuckled, continuing her work.

"You didn't scare me... You just startled me a little."

"You looked at me like I was nightmare incarnate."

Anne returned with another awkward giggle.

"Well... then you asked for help. I couldn't just leave you." She bit the thread and wrapped the wound for him with the first aid's bandage. "Now why don't we-" She was cut off as she stood up and Benji tried to follow her to his own feet, causing the towel to fall. "-Why don't we find you some clothes..."


End file.
